Thursday, 10 November 2016

SPUR OF THE MOMENT

SPUR OF THE MOMENT

By Roger Noons

a gin and tonic – a double

‘I would have thought you were taking a hell of a risk,’
my mother said, disapproval smeared across her face.

‘Why?’

‘Accepting an invitation from a stranger on a
bus.’

‘I didn’t seem that way to me.’

I was settled on the 257 when he got on at the stop
that is opposite the old ambulance station. He smiled as he dropped down on the
seat opposite, resting his backpack alongside. I resumed my unfocussed gaze
through the window. Two stops later, he turned and again
smiled.

‘Are you up for an
adventure?’

I
frowned.

‘Three stops
from now get off with me and I’ll take you to the nearest pub and buy you a
drink.’

I shook my
head, in amazement, not in refusal. ‘And why should I do
that?’

‘Because it’s
Friday night and you look like you’ve had a crappy week and it might cheer you
up.’

I looked at
his boyish smile and the lock of light brown hair that flopped down towards his
right eye. ‘All right,’ I said, stood up and pressed the bell. ‘Now,’ I added
and he had to hurry to gather his bag and follow me to the front. ‘Which way?’ I
asked when we were standing on the pavement.

‘You
choose.’

Mum was still shaking her head. ‘So where did you end
up?’

‘The Horse and
Jockey.’

‘That
dump?’

‘It’s been
done up, new young licensee, they do food now, as well.’

‘And what did
he buy you, half a shandy?’

‘Actually, I
had a gin and tonic and—’

‘Huh, I
suppose it’s a pound to speak to you now. Although I guess he was looking to get
you—’

‘Before you
ask, I had a second, a double.’

‘I didn’t know
you liked gin?’

‘It’s all right, when someone else is
paying.’

My mother took
a deep breath, loath to celebrate my adventure. ‘What did you talk
about?’

‘Films, plays,
books, that sort of thing.’

‘Oh, he’s highbrow, is he?’

‘He’s a teacher, at the Sixth Form
College.’

‘What was he
after, that’s what I’d like to know.’

‘He gave me
his mobile number.’

Her
displeasure spanned the five feet between us. ‘Are you going to ring
him?’

I gazed into
space. ‘Probably not.’

‘I should
think not.’

‘I didn’t get
around to telling him that I had a three year old child … and a husband in
prison for attempted murder.’